


Opening Moves

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: Blackest Circle [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dark Obi-Wan Kenobi, GFY, Gen, Suitless Vader, graphic threat of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: Overthrowing tyrants doesn't happen by politics alone. New allies and outlets have to be found.





	1. Promotion

**Author's Note:**

> Amelia Bloodfang is absolutely inspired by _Treasure Planet_ , and [this post](http://lledra.tumblr.com/post/121112075118/thedrunkenjawa-stormraven24-i-feel-like-the), with [TheDrunkenJawa](https://thedrunkenjawa.tumblr.com/) seeding the idea and [Lledra](http://lledra.tumblr.com/) instigating further with some lovely art. Many thanks to both of them!

The _Annihilator_ was the prototype for a new type of Super Star Destroyer, called _Executor-_ class. Large enough to be a space station, it would be a deadly addition to the Imperial Fleet. Once it had been put through its paces, and if it proved viable, the Imperial Naval brass would fight tooth and polite nail for command of one.

Amelia Bloodfang was the _Annihilator's_ new Captain, a post she could only view with bitter regret. Amelia was an aberration in the Empire’s military. She was female, which was considered an automatic black mark by beings such as Tarkin or the Emperor himself. She also wasn’t human, and the military, predominantly human since its inception, held only a tiny handful of other species. Despite those setbacks, Amelia had persevered, determined to make her mark in the Emperor’s military.

In quieter, more annoying but reflective moments, she could admit that some of her determination was sheer spite and desperation. She was also an aberration to her own people. Most Zygerrians stayed on planet or were slavers roaming the galaxy looking for prey. Her parents had been diplomats, sly negotiators looking to smooth over Zygerrian transgressions of Republic law. They had made a huge tactical error in not raising their only daughter in a more repressive atmosphere, because she had come to radical conclusions all her own about how slavery wasn’t particularly nice, nor were all other species lesser. She’d hit her rebellious youth phase early, gotten disowned, and promptly entered the Republic navy. With the Clone Wars, she’d managed to advance despite her youth through sheer competence and a fierce hatred of shoddy work – second only to her loathing of slavery.

One could not wage a moral crusade alone against one’s entire species, but she took pride in spitting in the face of the many, many false expectations people had of her. She would not fail the way everyone seemed to expect her to.

The problem with that, of course, was that it was sometimes difficult to make friends. Moreover, it was very easy to make enemies.

The only reason Amelia had gained her position on the coveted _Annihilator_ was by virtue of it being a dead end posting. With no explanation and no warning – and no unusual infractions with insulting superiors – she had been assigned to the prototype ship on a scut mission to the Mid-Rim. They were to take up a long-term patrol route, push the _Annihilator_ to see what went wrong so that other ships wouldn’t have those problems, and basically waste away as far from Imperial Center as whoever she’d insulted could possibly throw her.

It was maddening. Even worse had been the several holo-calls of congratulations – sniggering backhanded ‘commiserations,’ really – that had greeted her on the bridge when she’d arrived. All rivals, happy to see the back of her and even happier to rub her non-human, _female_ nose in it.

She was in a fine fit when she stalked into her new quarters, only to pull up sharply as the door to her stateroom hissed closed. Her hand had automatically gone to her hip blaster, because stars take it all, Lord _Vader_ was sitting in the chair at a very nice desk – _her_ chair at _her_ useless bedamned desk – hands steepled and brow raised.

“Lord Vader,” Amelia said, cold and regal because damned if she was going to cower at death’s door. “To what do I owe this dubious honor? I would’ve thought whatever I did to offend would not merit more than a cruise of the piss end of the galaxy. I cannot recall what I have done that would merit _your_ presence.”

The Emperor’s attack dog gave her a cold little smile that lowered the temperature in the room — or at least coincided with a temperature fluctuation. “Oh, I’m here unofficially.”

She snorted. “Your visits are _always_ unofficial, unless the Emperor wants to make a show of letting you off your leash. Can we get this unpleasantness over with quickly already? I suspect my second-in-command would rather a cabin less bloodstained than you tend to leave behind.”

A bit to her surprise, Vader did not stand. He grinned instead, a sharp expression showing his teeth. “Don’t worry, with all luck this is the only visit we’ll have. What brings me here is you.”

In as obvious a gesture of defiance she could manage, Amelia moved her hand from her blaster to her hip before raising her brows and showing a bit of fang right back. She swept a disdainful look over Vader, giving a bit extra attention to his messy hair. “I’m glad to know it’s not your search for a new hair dresser.” She tapped an impatient claw on her hip. “Straight forward answers, if you please, Lord Vader. Consider it a last request, if you will; I cannot stand this mincing about.”

That earned her a long, studying look, then a different grin. It was still cold and brutal, but amused, almost humane. “Oh I like you. That’s a death sentence, though, so this _is_ unofficial, and I was never here. I got you this assignment, and Captain, it is a very convoluted trail I had to lay to get you to the mid-Rim. That’ll expand to the Outer Rim as your reputation grows and you continue to be successful.”

Her claw stilled, but she kept the rest of her startlement down to just a blink. “I beg your pardon?”

Vader’s expression went scornful and incredulous. “Don't tell me you’re _that_ ignorant of how the Empire works. Powerful figures have their agents and pawns, and those get maneuvered to accomplish goals they can’t possibly begin to grasp.”

Her lips curled further to expose more fang. Yes, she knew that, and hated it. It reduced people down to insignificant numbers, toys instead of functional beings. “And you would be one of those figures, I take it?”

Vader’s scorn disappeared with a bark of humorless laughter. “I’m an agent, and you are a pawn. Let’s not fool ourselves. I would, however, prefer if you were _my_ pawn.”

“Oh this is bound to be rich.” Vader certainly didn’t mince words, nor did he downplay his sense of importance. Yes, it _was_ interesting that he considered himself a tool rather than a figure of prestige, but it proved little. She needed no petty tinpot dictators contriving her life. Amelia crossed her arms and glared. “If I accept these noxious terms, what exactly would my goal be? Or is that too grand for my tiny military mind to comprehend?”

Vader straightened with a scowl. “First off, do not fall into the trap of even mocking self-denigration, because you have enough to fight against as a woman and a non-human.” Somehow, Amelia limited herself to a growl and a glare which by all rights ought to have set the bastard on fire. It neither seemed to make an impression nor warrant any kind of notice. “Your subordinates should not have to fight that sort of insidious prejudice hiding in the back of their minds. Don’t make your or my job any harder than it has to be.”

She drew back, not sure what to make of his words. They made far too much sense.

“Secondly, and more far-reaching?” Vader had a razor thin smile. “Slavery.”

Amelia’s hands flexed to bare her claws and a feral snarl ripped forth without any intent on her part. How _dare_ he! Yes, her species had a foul reputation, but to _presume_ she would have any interest in that vile practice was unconscionable and criminally stupid. “Emperor’s head minion or no, you have twenty seconds to explain yourself before I flay you where you sit and wear your entrails as a hat.”

The burst of what sounded to be genuine laughter was a surprise. The great and terrifying Lord Vader near guffawed before shaking his head. His expression settled closer to a sneer. “The Emperor thinks he can build a civilization on slavery. He wants his humans, his old men running the show, and to hells with the rest. Slavery’s already too damn rampant in the mid- to outer Rim, but it’s run by Hutts and independent operators. He wants it all nice and neat and _taxed_ , paperwork filed in triplicate to feed his bureaucracy.” There was a new bitterness to Vader’s voice, something dark and truly angry that pinned her ears back with disquiet. “The Hutts will either fight him until the last Hutt is dead, or try to ingratiate themselves with the Empire. It won't happen immediately - he has to destroy the Senate some more before he can move on open slavery, but that's his goal.  Until then, though, you're well within all your legal rights and mission parameters.”

This was entirely beyond anything she might have expected if she were ever delusional enough to think that Lord Vader would want to have a conversation with her. Still, a most curious comment. She allowed her ears to rise a little, acknowledging her confusion. “Within my legal rights for what?”

The dangerous smirk was back. “Reducing every slaver you can sink your claws into to so much space debris.”

 _Well_ now. Amelia straightened, tugging her uniform back to inspection precise standards. “You have my attention.”


	2. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some outlets are healthier than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World-building was assisted by Flamethrower (eeee, endless thanks!), and beta was kindly provided by MoreCivilizedAge (THANK YOU!!).

A bad feeling had been itching along Leia’s shoulder blades all evening, ever since Ben finished lessons for her and Luke. It wasn’t the kind of bad feeling like when the Tuskens had raided Anchorhead, or that time that stormtroopers had been patrolling through the area but no one knew why (though Ben had said it was punishment, because the ‘troopers were busy but not getting much done. Leia had thought it weird that adults got extra chores when they were bad too).

This was something else, like the feel of danger from a sandstorm mixed with something that was slimy, maybe kinda burned, too. It was strange enough that she hadn’t said anything, though she kept a careful eye on where the family’s blasters were, anyway. She might be wrong about the bad feeling, but she wasn’t going to take stupid chances.

Luke was quiet too, though some of that was because he’d mouthed off to Ben during their daily lessons.

Well. Not exactly mouthed off. He’d just done the Luke thing with weird questions. Ben had gone through the meditation (sometimes boring, sometimes useful), and then the katas (always fun, though she hoped he’d teach them to make lightsabers soon because nothing was prettier than Ben going through the more complicated katas with his lit sword). Then he’d gotten to the philosophy and How To Be A Good Jedi, which–

Well, sometimes it seemed like being a Jedi was _boring_. The philosophy bits were fun if brain-twisty, but the way Jedi used to live away from family and being all serenity all the time didn’t sound very nice. Luke had complained to her a lot about how that was all so stupid, but neither of them were dumb enough to say that to Ben.

Ben got cranky about things like that.

He’d been in the middle of how Jedi don’t hate, and revenge is bad and Sithy, when Luke had piped up. “So why do you hate the Empire?”

Ben had gone still, expression _blank,_ then he shook his head. “Luke,” he said in that sad, gentle tone that meant Luke had really messed up. “There is a difference between ideals and human limitations. I am only human. I don’t hate the Empire. I do hate much of what has been done in its name as it took power and how it governs. I am also working to overcome that emotion, as any true Jedi would.”

That...made sense. It also explained some of the philosophy things he’d talked about. Before Leia could track down some of the more interesting ideas, Luke stirred up more trouble. “Like Vader killing our bio-mom and dad?” Ben gave him a look, but Luke had stubborn moments when he didn’t think things through. That was why Luke argued with Ben more than Leia did, though she got into trouble more than Luke did.

“Or more the stuff about the Empire killing all the Jedi?”

Ben swallowed, and the ‘I Am Very Disappointed In You’ look grew. “That was not the Empire, Luke. That was the Emperor’s orders. _He_ is responsible for that.”

Leia was better at knowing the right times to speak, but she couldn’t let that one sit, and besides, Ben had said that this was time to learn, and all questions were welcome. “So the Empire isn’t an Empire without an Emperor, but if Jedi don’t hate and Jedi don’t get revenge, then what _are_ we supposed to do?”

Ben got the long suffering look, and they got a long lecture about how sometimes stopping people was difficult, killing was never the first option, and sometimes you had to get to the heart of the matter.

She wasn’t sure what all of it meant, but that was a lot of Ben’s lessons. She was pretty sure what that _did_ mean was that someone needed to kill the Emperor. Leia kind of hoped that Ben was planning on letting them fight Vader and the Emperor when they were older. Maybe even join the Rebellion, if it existed: Biggs had lots of wild stories about Rebels fighting the Empire, and when they visited their cousins there were even wilder rumors the adults traded when they thought the kids weren’t around, but there wasn’t any real proof either way, and Ben always told them to be careful to confirm information.

So it had been an interesting day with interesting lessons, but for all that she had lots to think on, that creepy oily feeling kept slithering across her shoulders. It was only when Mom and Dad left the twins in their dark room that Luke clued her in. He waited the five-count he always did before hopping out of the bottom bunk up to hers, but instead of plopping his blanket down on top of them both he just sat there, looking at her in the faint glimmer of the nightlight.

“I think there’s a monster out there.”

Oh. Oh, that made sense. Leia shivered a little, but she covered it well. Luke was better at feeling things – Ben said he had ‘good intuition.’ Biggs just said that Luke was more sensitive, then he’d giggle and scruffle their hair because the dork always thought he was funny.

“I’ve had a bad feeling since lessons,” she whispered back, and Luke nodded. He glanced at the door where they could both feel Ben passing by – he always walked past their door on his way out to his own place, a little hut at the back of the Darklighter compound, set off like it was sulking to itself, or maybe meditating.

It depended on how cranky Ben was if it seemed like sulking or meditating, really. At least it was easier to give him his privacy that way.

“Hey Ben?” Luke called softly.  Ben, passing by in the hallway, heard and poked his head in.

“Yes?”

Luke motioned him in, and when he was close enough Luke repeated himself. “I think there’s a monster out there.”

Ben froze, but it was different from the way he had during lessons. “What do you mean?” His voice was harsh, which probably meant that he had a bad feeling too.

“I’ve been feeling something bad since our lessons. Leia has too. It’s– I think I’ve felt it before, but not like this? Not this strong? It’s...” Luke made a face. “I think it’s Dark.”

Leia’s eyes went wide. “Do you think it’s a Sith?” she asked, not sure how she felt about it.

They both looked at Ben. There were times he went blank and cold in a way that Leia didn’t like. He was like that now, but worse. Then Ben closed his eyes, breathing deep. She could feel his Force presence stretch out, brushing past her like a gentle breeze.

A moment later, the bad feeling just…stopped.

Leia let out a tiny sigh of relief, and Luke mostly relaxed. Ben smiled. “There, did I manage to chase it off?”

“What did you _do_?” Luke asked.

“Misdirected it, whatever it was. It now thinks there’s a disturbance in the Force to the south-east, and there’s nothing interesting here.”

“What was it?” Leia whispered.

“I don’t know, and I don’t intend to find out. Go to sleep, young ones. There’s no need to go looking for trouble.”

“Sounds like it was looking for us.”

Ben shook his head. “No, it didn’t feel directed enough. I’ll keep an eye out, but I’d rather do that from my own room than yours. Go to sleep. I will not let anything harm you.”

Ben didn’t make promises like that if he didn’t mean it. Leia tugged at Luke’s arm, and he finally tossed the blanket over them. Ben nodded and ducked out.

“Think he’s gonna go monster hunting?” Leia finally asked.

“Nah. I just hope whatever it is stays away.”

* * *

Ben kept a sedate pace and a pleasantly bland expression all the way to his quarters. The problem of course was then he’d be stuck in a small apartment, with nothing he could fucking _destroy_.

He’d shielded his rooms to a fare-thee-well as soon as he’d moved in – yet another reason to keep it off-limits to the kids. As soon as he was inside, Ben indulged in a snarl, letting his personal shields down so the Darkness no longer felt like it was going to burn him up from the inside. He was near growling as he paced back and forth, feeling like a caged animal.

He hated this. Hated it beyond words and almost beyond thought, how he had to act like a fucking _Jedi_. He’d promised Vader that he’d train the brats as Jedi, train them into fighters capable of going up against the Emperor, and to that end they had to be as close an approximation of Jedi as possible. Oh, they weren’t traditional Jedi – Ben had had to strip the Jedi Way down to the bare essentials that he could still manage, and even that was a struggle. Non-attachment was a lost cause, as were most of the diplomatic aspects. All he could do was teach them not to be overpowered by their attachments and emotions, and to that end he had to show serenity and compassion and none of the fury and fear he hid underneath.

Some of the fear had been about tonight’s very problem. The twins were young still, but their power was only going to keep growing. He’d been lucky to get seven years before they noticed there was something lurking around the farm that wasn’t right – wasn’t _Light_. He had to do something about this. The trips to Dagobah were few and far between – Vader couldn’t get out from under Palpatine’s putrid gaze for long. Even then, Ben didn’t dare leave the brats unprotected for any length of time. Not to mention there was always more training for them.

Fuck all, it felt like the Darkness was going to start creeping out his pores like maggots, little crawly physical manifestations of anger and frustration. Or no, that was just the electricity he was starting to generate without being careful about it. He stopped and took a few breaths, channeling his emotions. He needed to _do_ something.

In an effort to burn off some energy, he reached out in the Force, trying to feel his way across the familiar terrain in a quick scan. It was all the usual shit. The Darklighter family – Lanal and Huff, at their nightly dejarik game; Biggs a quiet presence that was probably reading; Luke and Leia almost asleep; three-year-old Dera sneaking out of her room.

Further out – Tosche Station and Anchorhead, the quiet background murmur of tedious little minds and unambitious beings eking out a living with no concern for greater matters. Further – the whisper of several farms, womp rat colonies, a jawa caravan...and beyond that, the fear of hunted things and the anticipation of the hunter. Ben stopped, his eyes opening as a nasty smile blossomed. He knew the feel of Tuskens on the hunt, and tonight their prey was sentient. Maybe there _was_ something he could do.

* * *

Something had happened. They could feel it, something strange and cold slithering through the Force even before they left their bedroom. Mom and Dad were whispering to each other at the far end of the table, stopping the moment the twins came in. Mom tried to cover with a big, fake smile, but Biggs caught Luke’s eye and gave a small head-jerk towards the baby’s room.

Breakfast took forever, then the four kids scrambled out at once. As soon as they were in Dera’s room, Biggs closed the door while the other three scrambled onto Dera’s bed.

Joining them, Biggs leaned forward and said quietly, “Something bad happened last night.” Dera pressed herself into Luke’s side, and Leia scooched forward, looking determined.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Everyone we know. Owen Lars – out near the Judland Wastes?”

Leia nodded. The Darklighter farm was the biggest in the area, but out here? Everyone knew everyone’s business. The Larses were good people, but ever since Mr. Lars’ parents had died they’d had it kinda rough.

Biggs looked around like he was expecting Mom or Dad to pop out of the closet or something. “He was doing the rounds on his vaporators this morning, and he found a trail of Tusken corpses.”

“No way,” Leia breathed, even as Dera wrinkled her nose.

“Bodies?”

“Dead ones,” Biggs confirmed. “In lots of little bits.”

“Eeeeww.”

Luke patted Dera, and Leia poked Biggs in the ribs. “Two tribes fighting?”

He shook his head. “He called in some neighbors, and they followed the bodies. It looks like a whole camp got wiped out, and it was...messy.”

Luke and Leia shared a look, already agreeing in the Force to say nothing. Sounded like there _had_ been a monster out there.


End file.
